Understanding Delmarva’s ‘whole-nother’ way of speaking

Hit any improvisational actor with a region, and he or she can easily mimic the accent:

Deep South: “How y’all doin’?”

New Jersey: “Fuh-gedda-boud-dit!”

Boston: “Pahk the cah at Hahvad Yahd.”

But Eastern Shore? That’s a head-scratcher.

Those familiar with Delmarva know there is something a bit different about how residents sound, but its dialect and accent variations are not as obvious as many others.

“There’s some kind of consciousness that there are differences in speech with the Eastern Shore, but people may not be able to pinpoint it,” said Thomas Purnell, who studies dialects as an associate professor at the University of Wisconsin.

Nearby residents “might recognize the difference more than outsiders, but it’s hard to pinpoint because it’s about the pitch of your voice rather than a strong accent.”

Because of its unique history and somewhat remote location, Eastern Shore residents throughout Virginia and Maryland have adopted their own subtle vocabulary and accent that is distinct from their mainland counterparts. And although it might not be glaringly apparent to many, longtime locals know something in their speech sets them apart.

“There’s a bit of a drawl to it like you would find with folks in the Deep South, but it’s not quite fully formed,” said Laura Allen, a member of the local Toastmasters speech group who recently moved back to the Shore after many years away.

“There’s a softness to it that you don’t get in other places, and I think that makes people sound really friendly.”

Finding our voice

The term “dialect” refers simply to variations in speech, typically noted when comparing geographic regions. The Eastern Shore variances are typically referred to as Tidewater or Chesapeake dialects. Some similar speech patterns can be found in other coastal areas, including the Outer Banks of North Carolina, where residents also attribute much of their livelihood to the nearby waterways.

While “accents” refer to differences in pronunciation, dialect concerns more understated deviations in grammar and word choice. On the Eastern Shore, there are some differences in both.

“I think it has a certain amount of soul and caring,” said Toastmaster Clifton Harcum, who grew up on the Eastern Shore. “It has a certain amount of charm to it. It’s really embracing and warm.”

Those who are able to describe the Eastern Shore accent or dialect call it a bit of a merger of others from north and south of the area. Some of the confluence of Northern and Southern dialects is the result of Delmarva’s unique position, straddling the Mason-Dixon Line.

Much of the Deep South influence can be traced back to similar interests during the Civil War. While some parts of Maryland and Delaware supported the Union, other parts largely sided with Confederates, due to residents’ heavy reliance on slave labor for its agriculture and seafood production.

Yet Northern influences were not lost entirely, since transportation routes often carried travelers from the mid-Atlantic and New England through the region for commerce.

“Maryland got a lot of contact from lots of different settlements during colonization,” Purnell said. “Influences to the region spread from up and down the Eastern Seaboard.”

Changes to dialect in the region can still be traced back to those early days due to the near isolation of Delmarva, which brought on changes more slowly.

Until the construction of the Chesapeake Bay bridges in the 1950s and ’60s, visitors could travel through Delmarva by train or directly to locations across the bay by ferry, but few did with regularity given the time needed and costs.

As a result, the Eastern Shore never really experienced a large influx of new residents that would significantly alter the dialect of the region. Subtle differences developed slowly from a variety of visitors and cultural influences during longer periods of time.

“The Eastern Shore area was pretty heavily influenced by its geography,” Mallinson said. “The uniqueness that you see there is the result of those who settled the area and who stayed in the area.”

Dialect differences have been even slower to evolve in some Eastern Shore locations. On both Tangier and Smith islands, many longtime residents still speak with a type of Old English accent that has all but since vanished in most parts of the world.

As languages around the world evolved with the arrival of new visitors and residents, the remote islands became something of a time capsule for the language of English poet Geoffrey Chaucer and his compatriots from the Middle Ages.

With residents of Smith and Tangier settling there for generations and limited access to the islands keeping visitors away, natives have been sheltered from natural language changes and have managed to hold on to some of those long-lost speaking nuances.

“When you have a place that’s a bit more geographically remote and where people tend to stay for generations, you’re going to see language not changing in ways that it does in other places,” said Christine Mallinson, an associate professor at the University of Maryland Baltimore County who studies language literacy and culture. “It’s a little more difficult to get there, and people tend to stay.”

Developing dialect

The modernization of travel routes in recent decades has led to greater fluctuation of populations, especially on the Eastern Shore. With its big-name employers and appealing beach venues, more non-natives have come to declare Delmarva their home, which could impact the way residents speak — and maybe has already.

“The present dialect situation is sort of influx all the time,” Purnell said. “People negotiate how they talk to other people. With large influxes of people from other cultures or areas, it might get people changing how they speak over the course of generations.”

While Purnell says there is no way to predict dialect changes over time, it’s probable many newcomers will adopt some Shore ways for themselves, picking up different phrases and pronunciations. Purnell calls the adaptions in speech and language “accommodation.” As newcomers to an area establish themselves, they need to make a conscious choice to either conform to local dialect or to reject it.

“When you’re cooperative, you can match some of your speech, or you can be uncooperative and be very different,” Purnell said. “There’s that choice — you can either be different and risk the consequences or adjust your speech as you can.”

Those consequences typically are as subtle as the speech variances, but they are meaningful. Choosing whether to adopt local dialects can impact your ability to fit in with others in a new place.

“Some people have suggested that variations of language are a way of telling you about insiders versus outsiders,” Purnell said. “When people are talking alike, you can recognize who’s an insider.”­

Though newcomers may try to acclimatize themselves to Eastern Shore speech nuances, they will likely never be able to fully immerse themselves and pass for “Shoremen.”

“There might be reasons (for adopting accents) or maybe you just hear it a lot, but that only really goes so far,” Mallinson said. “It’s rare that someone might fully sound like they are from somewhere they didn’t grow up.

“You might adopt specific word changes but not the finer, more subtle things that make the accent what it is.”

New to the Eastern Shore? Here are some words and phrases you are going to want to know:

Between the bridges: Refers to the Eastern Shore — the area existing between the Chesapeake Bay Bridge and the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel. The “western shore” refers to parts of Maryland that are “across the bridge.”

Boh-tini: A pint of Maryland’s own Natty Boh beer, rimmed with Old Bay seasoning and garnished with a green olive. (Don’t knock it ‘till you’ve tried it!)

Carry me: “Take me,” as in, “Can you carry me to the store?”

Chicken Neckin’: The practice of catching crabs using raw chicken necks tied to a heavy piece of string. (A weight is also often attached to sink the chicken neck to the floor of the waterway.)­

Close out here: Meaning humidity or heat are hitting you, as is, “It’s awful close out here.”

Crab pots: Stacks of wire crab traps, often seen piled on the side of the road in waterfront towns.

Jimmies & Sooks: “Jimmies” are male crabs; “sooks” are female crabs. You can tell the difference by looking at the crab’s abdomen: males have a narrow triangle mark in the middle, while females have a broader, rounder mark.

Menhaden: Forage fish averaging about a foot long that are often used to bait crab pots. (Also sometimes called bunker, shiner or pogey.)

Pert-near: Meaning close to, as in, “My house is pert-near the water.”

Pickin’ crabs: The delicate and often difficult process of picking crabmeat from its shell and eating it. Fast-paced “crab pickin’ ” is an art form around here.

Skipjack: A large sailboat traditionally used for oyster dredging. It is recognizable by its long boom and large, pointed mast.

Smith Island cake: A 10-layer cake originating on the Eastern Shore island. It can be made in a variety of flavors, though the most common are yellow cake with chocolate frosting, red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting and chocolate cake with vanilla frosting.

Watermen: Refers to those who make their living on the water catching seafood for sale to local restaurants and stores. Historically, it has been one of the largest industries on the Eastern Shore.